


You stand with grace and when you fall I'll follow to be there in case you're crying tears of sorrow

by killmycreed



Category: Thor (2011) RPF
Genre: Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, some fluff at the end, they're both going to suffer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-22
Updated: 2012-03-22
Packaged: 2017-11-02 09:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killmycreed/pseuds/killmycreed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An accident on set uncovers hidden feelings and brings lots of pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You stand with grace and when you fall I'll follow to be there in case you're crying tears of sorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for this prompt at the Kink Meme: http://norsekink.livejournal.com/1123.html?thread=557411#t557411
> 
> Anon requested hurt Tom but overall this got far more angsty!
> 
> There may be some mistakes as English is not my first language. If you find some it would be kind to let me know and I'll correct them.

 

_Can you stay… please?_

One question. Four words.

Yet it couldn’t leave his mouth. As always he let the fear consume him and he bit painfully down on his lower lip to keep himself from speaking.

“So I see you tomorrow then?”, Chris asked him.

“Sure…”

He even managed a smile. Seems like he wasn’t such a bad actor after all. Silently he watched Chris, as he put on his clothes and left his hotel room – without a goodnight kiss for him.

Pathetic. Why should he even get one? He wasn’t Chris boyfriend after all. They were just friends – maybe with some benefits – but still, only friends.

Whimpering he curled himself up, wrapping his arms around his upper body in a weak attempt of seeking some comfort. How could he be so stupid? He doubted that his friend would ever want more from him than just his body. Just sex, no feelings. They agreed both to that. But of course he fell for Chris.

Stupid. He called himself an actor, yet apparently he could not control his own feelings. Slowly the tears that hat crept up his eyes after Chris had left started to stream down his cheeks.

Why did he keep going on with this? Maybe some kind of masochism? Sobbing he buried his head into the pillow, that smelled, of course, just like Chris. This did not really help him to fight the overwhelming urge to run into the room of his best friend and tell him how much he loved him.

Sadly this was not really an option, as he had absolutely no interest in making a fool of himself in front of Chris and lose his friendship forever. And he could never – no would never – risk that. After all he was so lucky. Having a lead role in a Hollywood production – for a British nobody like him a huge deal – and getting along so well with your costar, that you were practically best friends, what more could he ask for? No he just couldn’t risk all of this.

Nobody said life was easy, after all. And up until now he managed fine. He doubted that Chris suspected his crush – well rather his undying love – as he realized during another broken sob. Sure, there has been sexual tension, but apparently Chris has liked him enough to fuck him after a couple of weeks into filming. Yeah, they were drunk – Chris way more than he had been – but who cares? His best friend had kissed him, and touched him. His fucking dreams were coming true, so why would he be so stupid and say no?

He’d been through all of it. A somehow sober Chris on the morning after was not easy. True, he had expected a minor freak out, who wouldn’t after waking up in a hotel bed with his best friend and not being able to remember the last night? Still. It had hurt. A lot. More than he had admitted. Still he managed to recall Chris memory with a calm voice. Good actor, apparently. At least Chris didn’t hate him. Quite the opposite actually. _I’d love it to fuck your brains out again, when I’m sober._ Exact words. And Tom said yes.

He thought it would make everything better. Stupid. Every time Chris left his bed he was longing for more. Longing for things that Chris couldn’t – and wouldn’t – give him. It got harder and harder. It was not like he did not enjoy it. His best friend was quite a god in bed. He felt loved and Chris took always care of him, loved it to see him fall apart with lust. But he left. Always. And each time he did it tore a hole into his heart.

Still he could not ask him to stay. What would be the sense? After all Chris left each time. If he wanted to stay, he would not leave, right? No leaving would not make any sense. Conclusion: Chris did _not_ want to share a bed with him and hold him and do whatever post coital stuff normal people were doing.

God he was going insane. He wasn’t a woman. It was their cliché to be all over the feelings. No reason for him to overreact because apparently Chris was not all too fond of spooning him and making a bit of “ _kissy kissy”_ on his neck. Pathetic. He was a grown man after all.

Who was he fooling? Himself. Who else? He could lie to himself, that he did not want more than sex, that he was perfectly fine with Chris using his body and leaving afterwards. Lies. All of it. Fucking lies and nothing more!

Of course he wanted more! He wanted all of it. He wanted Chris to hug him, to kiss him, to stay with him after they had slept with each other. He wanted him to hold him close, stroke through his hair and over his back. He wanted kisses on the forehead or on the neck – softly and tender. He wanted Chris to tell him that he loved him and he wanted to fall asleep in his arms. And he wanted to be able to rest his head on the chest of his friend, listening to his heartbeat and feeling his slow breathing as he fell asleep. That was what he wanted. Too bad for him, that it was very unlikely for him to get it – ever.

At least he wasn’t too stupid to realize it. Still it didn’t exactly make things better. After all he was the one lying in his bed with bitter tears streaming down his cheeks, because apparently he could not handle being a fuck buddy. And having to be on set at the crack of dawn the following morning – well rather in some short hours – did not help. The make-up crew was going to be pissed with him.

Laughing. Why the fuck was he laughing now? He was getting insane – there was no other explanation. No, it was not funny, that people were going to be pissed hat him. Definitely not.

Still crying he curled himself up under the sheets, trying to get comfortable. Easier said than done. Chris’ scent lingered in his whole bed, and it was comforting and irritating at the same time. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but he finally managed to sob himself into a restless sleep.

 

Morning came far too soon for his taste. By the time his phone was beeping mercilessly he could barely open his eyes. Tiredly he forced himself to get up, shivering in the cold of his room. He should have turned on the heater last night if he planned on sleeping naked. Okay, he did not plan it but usually he never forgot it, when Chris left. Maybe his feelings were really more messed up, than he had assumed.

He turned up the heater and decided to take a hot shower. A cold one might wake him up better, but he was so cold, that he wouldn’t even make it onto set if he showered cold. Fortunately the shower did not only help with his tiredness but also washed all the traces from last night away. He just couldn’t stand the feeling of Chris that still lingered on his skin anymore. Not today. It hurt way too much and he needed to focus on his scenes today. He was supposed to do a good job. Always. Someone like him was easy to replace after all.

With a coffee in his hand he made his way to the costume and make-up trailer. He was still tired, but the shower had helped and he hoped to get enough caffeine in his system by the time the shooting started. Quietly he let the make-up staff fuss over him, deep in thought about the rest of the day.

Most of his scenes today were with Chris. Somebody up there really hated him. It was not like he suffered last night enough… now he had to compose himself even more if he wanted nobody to suspect anything was wrong. At least they were doing fighting scenes today. So there was no risk of getting a break down or starting to cry because he and Chris had to go all emotional on each other.

“Everything alright with you? You seem so quiet today?”, startled he turned around and found Kat looking at him. He hadn’t even noticed her entering the trailer. He was really, really messed up.

“Yeah, sure.”, he even managed a smile. Wasn’t he a good actor? Yeah, sure. “Haven’t slept well last night!”, he added and held up his second cup of coffee.

Great. Now the others started to get worried about him. How long till they found out that he was in love with Chris? No, he would not think about them finding out. He couldn’t. Everyone would laugh at him for being so stupid to fall for his costar. And Chris would never talk to him again. No, there was no way he would risk this.

He ignored Kat’s suspicious glance and took another sip of his coffee. At least it helped a bit, since he felt now alert enough to go through the scenes this morning. He just wished for a bit more rest, but apparently this seemed not like an option.

“Ready to get your ass kicked today?”, laughing Chris entered the trailer, smiling at him. He couldn’t help but feel a sharp pain in his chest. Chris acted like everything was alright. Well technically there was nothing wrong, because how would he know that something was not right? He did not talk about it after all.

He forced another smile on his face. It wasn’t the fault of his friend that his feelings were so messed up. There was no reason for him to let it out on Chris, even though it hurt him a lot.

“Are you sure that I’m the one that’s gonna get his ass kicked? I think Thor is taking over your personality with his arrogance!”, he laughed. It cost a lot of willpower to act like he was happy and nothing was wrong even though he wanted to break down and cry instead.

When they put on their costumes Tom couldn’t help but stare. He loved Chris body. He was so strong compared to his weak and slim figure. Again the wish to be held by his best friend welled up inside of him. He bit down on his lower lip and lowered his gaze. After all last night these arms were holding him, stroking him and doing all kinds of wonderful things to him. Yet it wasn’t enough. It could never be enough.

He flinched when he felt fingertips lifting his chin. “Are you really fine?”, Chris asked, looking at him with concern in his eyes. It was almost as if he cared – cared for him more than friendship maybe?

“Yeah… just couldn’t sleep last night…”, he answered quietly. Chris didn’t look as if he was satisfied with his answer but apparently he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“You know you can tell me everything that bothers you, right?” He looked up into Chris eyes and could tell he meant it.

 “I…” He didn’t know what to answer. No. Wrong. He knew exactly what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t. It would destroy everything.

Chris was still holding his chin up and his thumb began to stroke his cheek slowly. This was probably the most intimate moment they both had shared so far. Even though they had slept so many times with each other, this felt much more like… love? This was an intimate closeness they did not have before. Hope welled up inside of him again. Maybe he should just try to tell Chris everything?

Just as he opened his mouth to answer Chris the door of the trailer opened. Startled they both drew apart, trying to look as if nothing had happened. “You two ready?”, Ken asked. Breathing deep he nodded. It seemed like they had lost track of time. Maybe it was good, that Ken had interrupted them, or else he would have done something stupid like confessing his love.

He grabbed his helmet and the stupid spear he was supposed to carry and followed Chris and Ken outside. Now he would have to focus on the shoot, which was a good thing, because he could finally push his feelings aside – if only for a couple of hours.

 

Fighting scenes were hard. No matter how nice they looked, they were hard, hard work. Tiring and bruising. And they required full concentration. This was probably the hardest part. He had drowned tons of coffee, yet it did not help. He kept messing up most of the scenes and he hated himself for it. Again another proof of how useless he was.

“Tom are you alright? You need to concentrate more!” Great. Even Ken was criticizing him now. He was a failure indeed.

“Yeah, sorry!”  Deep breath. He could do this. He knew each step, knew what to do, but why was it so hard then? Still he kept messing up scene after scene. He was so frustrated, that he didn’t notice how a piece of his spear broke, fell to the floor and stayed there – small but still dangerous.

Ken ordered a small break, complaining that they were falling behind schedule. And everything was his fault. He rushed off to get another coffee. Maybe it would finally help him to focus. After he finished the cup he made his way back to the set, apparently just in time, since Ken was about start again.

They started the fighting again, and this time everything seemed to be fine. He and Chris managed  to make the sequence work. No mistakes so far and Tom was really grateful. At least he could get something to work. He didn’t think of anything that could go wrong now. After all, everything they needed to do right now was Chris throwing him across the room. He could do it. This was nothing new, they had trained to do it. Yes he could do it. What could possibly go wrong?

Pretty much everything could go wrong. He knew it as soon as he was hitting the floor, face down, as trained and there was a sharp pain in his side. He let out a soft cry, biting down on his lower lip. He didn’t want the others to worry. Ken would be pissed if they got even more behind in the schedule. No he did not want to be the cause for the delay.

“Tom? You alright?”, Chris asked concerned. He realized that he hadn’t moved in too long.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a hard fall.”

Wincing he got up, ignoring the pain. Whatever it was, it could wait until they finished the scenes. Everybody looked concerned at him, but he wouldn't show any weakness. “I’m fine. Really. Stop looking at me like that!”

Ken was still looking skeptical but he seemed to accept his answer. Tom asked himself whether he’d done the right thing by telling the others that he was fine. Because this would mean some more “flying” around for him. No, he needed to finish it. He was an actor, he could ignore the pain.

He was a very good actor, actually. After all he didn’t show any of the pain he was in. And every move hurt more and more. And maybe he was bleeding? He wasn’t sure. His costume didn’t show anything, but it felt sticky somehow. Whatever. He could not take care of it right now. He had a job to do.

And he did it. Take after take. And he even managed a couple of good takes. Probably because he knew now how an injured fighter felt. Ken even complimented him on how good he managed to portrait Loki’s pain. The first honest smile of the day spread over his face. He was good! This made it definitely easier to ignore the dizziness, that was slowly increasing. No, he wasn’t allowed to get dizzy. He needed to finish his job. That was his mantra. Though it didn’t help much after a while.

He was just attacking Chris again, when the dizziness increased and he stumbled. He tried his best to stay awake, but his vision blurred even more. He heard voices, but they were strangely muffled, so he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Instead he tried to focus on Chris but he only saw him through some kind of tunnel and when he tried to get closer to him he stumbled again and fell face down to the floor. Luckily he blacked out, before he could hit the floor.

 

 

With his eyes wide open Chris stared at Tom, who was now lying motionless on the ground. His brain had yet to process what had happened. It had all happened so fast. One second Tom was attacking him, just as it stood in the script, the next one he was stumbling and breaking down unconscious.

He forced his legs to move, quickly taking those few steps and fell to his knees next to his friend. With shaking fingers he removed the stupid helmet Tom had to wear from his head, threw it away and turned him slowly around. As he did so he could hear the others, who had come near them as well, gasp. He didn’t get the reason first, because his gaze was locked on the face of his friend, which looked perfectly normal. Then he let his gaze wander and saw the blood on the floor. Alarmed he let his hands roam slowly over Tom’s upper body. After all the blood had to come from somewhere.

He found the source quickly. The costume of his friend had a gash on his side, and he could feel, that Tom was stabbed by a piece of metal. Warm blood ran out of the wound and over his fingers and his costume was sticky with it. Fuck, how much blood had he lost?

“Ken, call an ambulance. NOW!” He was worried, very worried. Tom had been jumping around with some kind of metal stabbing him and hadn’t said a word?! He knew that it must have happened, when Tom had let out that cry after they’d done another take of him throwing him across the room. But he had said everything was alright. Why would he lie? He didn’t know. But he knew, that he had lost a lot of blood. You couldn’t see it on the costume, but he felt it, felt the stickiness of the blood seeping through the leather and it made him sick.

He cradled Tom in his arms, pressing a hand softly to the wound. He tried to stop it from bleeding, but he was way too afraid of pushing harder because of the metal inside of him. He didn’t know what damage it had caused but he knew that pushing it further inside would make things worse.

Tom was so pale. Now even more because of the blood loss. His white skin a sharp contrast against the black of his hair and clothes. He should probably just keep on looking at his face. It scared him, but it was way better than seeing Tom’s blood staining his fingers as it left his body. No, he wouldn’t lose Tom. They were going to get him to a hospital and everything would be all right. He would wake up and smile at him again. He had to!

His moody thoughts were interrupted by the arriving paramedics, who shoved him quickly away from his friend and began their work. All he could do now was sit there and watch them. He felt so helpless, but at the same time he knew that there was nothing he could do to help him.

He had his gaze locked on the scenery and didn’t notice how Ken had approached him. He flinched, when he felt the director’s hand on his shoulder and looked up.

“Are you all right?” He shook his head. He was everything but all right.

“Why didn’t he… tell us?”, he asked quietly. The question had been on his mind since Tom had collapsed unconscious to the ground.

“I don’t know… I guess he wanted to get the take right… and maybe he didn’t think it was _that_ bad?” He could clearly hear the worry in Ken’s voice, showing how much their director cared for him.

“I shouldn’t have shouted at him for messing up his scenes.”

“It’s not your fault, Ken. You were just doing your job.”

“I know, but he seemed to have a hard day, I shouldn’t have pushed him that hard.”

Ken was right. He had pushed Tom past his limits today. Maybe he should have said something as well. After all he had noticed already this morning that his friend wasn’t as fine as he told everyone.

His self loathing got interrupted by the paramedics, who were apparently ready to get Tom to the hospital. “Can I ride with you?”, he asked, while getting up. He didn’t want to leave him alone. Not only because he cared for Tom but also because he needed the reassurance that he was still there.

“Please…?”, he whispered, as they eyed him skeptically and after a too long moment they finally nodded.

“Just make sure you don’t get in our way.”, they warned him as they loaded Tom into the ambulance. Quickly he climbed inside, and sat on the place they showed him. Quietly he took the hand of his friend, almost flinching at the coldness of his fingers. Softly he stroked the hand, trying to warm it up. It was like his lifeline. He couldn’t look anywhere else. The blood stains scared him and the unresponsive pale face of Tom even more. No he would concentrate on the thin hand, enclosed by his own two hands and try to get it warm.

Simple task. He could do it. Just focus. Sighing he continued his caresses. His worry has gotten worse with every passing moment. Slowly he pressed a kiss to the back of Tom’s hand, flinching at the cold feeling of the skin under his lips.

“Don’t leave me. God, please… just don’t leave me Tom!” It was nearly a whimper, quiet against his skin. He closed his eyes, trying not to think about the worst, while he continued pressing Tom’s hand to his lips. During the whole ride he didn’t move even once.

Being so wrapped up in his thoughts he never noticed how they arrived at the hospital. He just registered the paramedics that were pushing him aside and wheeled Tom off. Quickly he ran after them, but soon a nurse stopped him, telling him that only doctors were allowed into surgery. All he could do was wait.

Finally his brain seemed to catch up fully with everything what had happened. Trembling he stumbled to the nearest wall, searching and needing its support. Slowly he sank down the wall until he was seated on the floor. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so scared that he was nearly shaking with fear. This was probably the first time he realized how _deep_ his feelings for his friend were.

He had always liked Tom – a lot. They were best friends, right from the beginning. Well he couldn’t think of anybody who didn’t like Tom. He was just adorable, walking into the room with his bright smile. Maybe he already fell in love back then – at least a little bit. He was so happy, that they got along right from the beginning. He was fairly sure that he’d gained a friend for life. And of course it was way more fun shooting a movie when you got along with your costar.

The more time he spend with his friend, the more attached he got. He enjoyed Tom’s company – even longed for it. The morning he woke up with Tom in his bed was the best morning ever – even though he couldn’t remember the night before. Fortunately he had refreshed his memory and when he showed no regret in last night he suggested that they could repeat it while being sober. Yes he loved to see Tom’s naked body under his, clinging to him and moaning his name.

They did it again, and again, and again – rolling in the sheets with so much passion between them. Yet he left every time. He didn’t know why, but he started with leaving and continued doing it. Tom had never said he wanted him to stay, and he never questioned it. Stupid. How could he be so stupid. He should have stayed, should have given in to his longings. No, instead he ignored them. And every time he wished even more he could stay. Yet he left.

Every time it hurt more and more. Now he cursed himself for being so stupid. He couldn’t stand to see Tom sad or upset. He wanted to be the one Tom trusted, the one he told his problems so he could comfort him. Yet he was too much of a coward to say anything. And now it could be too late.

Today he had finally dared to try to get even closer to him, tried to get him talking, as Tom seemed so upset this morning. And he almost got him, but then they were interrupted. He could curse himself for failing, again. What a stupid idiot he was. He ruined everything and all he could do was hope, that he got a second chance at making everything alright. He kept thinking of Tom, his smile and his shining eyes, ignoring the ugly, bloody truth as the tears started to stream down his face, slowly and steady.

He didn’t realize how much time he spent sitting on the floor, waiting for some news on his friend’s condition. He was too wrapped up in his thoughts and did not realize the arrival of Ken and Kat, both also worried about Tom.

“Chris?”, the sound of Ken’s voice made him look up, his face as tearstained as his clothes were bloodstained.

“We… brought you something to change!”

“I…”, he was surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded. “… I don’t need them…”

“Yes you do! Tom wouldn’t want to see you in bloodstained clothes, let alone kiss you!”, Kat insisted.

“How…?”

“Don’t be stupid! Have you not seen the way he looks at you? He is head over heels in love with you!”

He looked shocked at Kat. Tom was in love with him? That was too good to be true.

“That can’t be right…”

“Yes it can be right! God you guys are so stupid sometimes! He loves you, and you love him, that's obvious, but apparently you two are too stupid to work it out! And I swear if you don’t change your clothes right now and go to Tom when the doctors are finished with him and tell him how you feel I’m going to kick your blonde god ass, understand?”

Stunned all he could do was nod. He let Ken help him up and took the clothes Kat put in his hands. She was right. It was for the best if he changed. He needed to get out of the bloody and heavy costume. He went into the bathroom, glad nobody was there. Quickly he got out of the costume and washed the blood from his face and his hands and put on the jeans and the simple shirt. Kat was right, he felt better now and Tom would want to see him like this and not bloodstained. Taking a deep breath he got out of the bathroom, ready to face the doctors and their news. He already saw them standing with Ken and Kat and hurried over to them.

“Is he all right?”, he stuttered out, hope in his eyes.

“I can assure you, Mr. Hiddleston is fine. The metal caused only a flesh wound.”

“But why did he look like he was… dying?”

“The blood loss caused it. He lost quite a bit, because he ignored his wound.”, Ken said.

“That is right, and this was the main problem. If he would have bled out more, the situation would be critical. We stitched him up and gave him blood. If he recovers fine, we could let him leave tomorrow. He will need to rest for a couple of days but if there are no complications he could do this as well at the hotel. He’ll need to come in again in about two weeks again so we can take the stitches out.”

The relief he felt was unbelievable. Tom was going to be all right. It was nothing serious. Thank god!

“Can I… can I see him?”, he asked quietly.

“He is resting, but I don’t see a problem. Just don’t wake him when he is asleep.”

There was no one who could stop him now. Quickly he made his way to the room Tom was in. He hesitated for a short while in front of the door, but there was no stepping back now. No fears anymore. He would do this. Slowly he opened the door, stepping quietly inside the room.

Even though the doctor had prepared him, the sight of Tom shocked him. He was as pale as the sheets he was laying on, a couple of softly beeping machines surrounded him and a blood bag was connected to his veins, forcing the liquid into his body. No, he would not back out. Tom needed him.

With slow steps he made his way to the bed and sat down next to it. He reached out, taking Tom’s hand into his, just like in the ambulance. But this time the hand was warmer, didn’t seem so lifeless and dead. He could not say how grateful he was for that. Now all he could do was waiting for Tom to wake up.

 

Slowly he regained his senses again. He struggled against the darkness, willing his body to wake up. He must have fallen asleep some time ago. Strange that he couldn’t remember going to the hotel. Thinking about this… the bed didn’t feel like his hotel bed at all. And why was there a beeping noise in the background. Couldn’t somebody turn it off? Oh, and somebody was holding his hand. But why would anyone do that? He knew the only way to find out was by opening his eyes, even though it sounded way easier said than done.

His lids were heavy and opening them cost a great afford. Yet he didn’t give up. Groaning he tried to squeeze the hand, which was holding his, wanted to get some support from whoever was there.

“Tom…?” The sound of Chris voice surprised him. Apparently it was him, who was sitting next to him and holding his hand.

“… Chris…?”, struggling he tried to open his eyes, hoping that it would get easier the more he tried.

“Shh, it’s alright. You have to stay calm!”

Did he imagine it or did he really hear a tint of panic in his friend’s voice. Taking a deep breath he tried it again. This time his eyelids fluttered and he could open them a little bit. He was glad to have Chris here with him. He would have freaked out for sure if he would have to wake up alone.

Holding onto Chris hand as if it was his lifeline he managed it after a couple of more tries to open his eyes enough to see the blurry outlines of what seemed to be a hospital room. Tiredly he turned his head, wanting to see his friend. Strange how much strength this simple move cost him.

“What… happened?”, he had actually no idea why he was in a hospital.

“You… you got hurt on set…”, Chris mumbled quietly, and while his sight sharpened he realized how tired and scared his friend looked.

“You shocked us quite a bit…”, a little laugh followed the statement, yet he knew that it was not a honest laugh.

He could hear the fear for him in Chris’ voice, and he allowed himself the hope that he might have feelings for him. Why would he sit on his bedside and wait for him to wake up after all? And why would he be so scared?

“Why didn’t you tell us that you were hurt?”

Yes, why didn’t he? Good question.

“I… I didn’t want to fail the scene…?”

“Tom, being hurt doesn’t mean you fail something… I don’t want you to get killed!”

“You…”

“Damn I care about you! I don’t want you to get hurt! I don’t want you to collapse unconscious to the ground because you lost way too much blood! I don’t want you to look as pale as dead and fear that you will die there in my arms!”

With his eyes wide open he looked at Chris. He cared about him. He said he was scared that he died in his arms. He cared so much. He couldn’t believe it. This was his dreams coming true, if it was real. He doubted it. This was way too good to be true. He was surely just dreaming it. There was no other explanation.

Tears started to sting in his eyes, threatening to roll down his cheeks. He closed his eyes and tried to turn his head away, willing the illusion to go away. He didn’t want it to hurt anymore.

Chris hand on his cheek stopped him, turning his head back. Slowly he started to stroke his cheek, apparently waiting for him to open his eyes. Now he couldn’t hold back his tears anymore.

“Why are you torturing me like this?”, he almost sobbed.

“Tom, what’s wrong?”

“I… you… you don’t like me… like this… and why are you now… why are you... so nice in my… dreams…?”

Great, he didn’t make any sense right now. Being reduced to a sobbing mess on painkillers. Idiot. Now Chris would hate him even more.

“Stop. I don’t hate you.”, Chris interrupted his ramblings.

“But…”

“No, no fucking buts anymore! I don’t hate you. I never could! I care about you and this is real! No dream. I am here and I’m not going to leave you! And you know why? Because I fucking love you!”

“You…. Really?”

He couldn’t believe it. Chris loved him. He had wished such a long time for this to happen.

“Yes really.”

“I… oh god…. I love you, too… for such a long time…”

“I know… and I’m so sorry I left each time… but I thought you didn’t want me there.”

“I thought you didn’t want to stay…”

“God we are so stupid!”, Chris laughed and took Tom’s tearstained face in his hands, wiping away the tears that still spilled from his eyes, before he bent down and kissed him.

He was maybe still confused from the painkillers but this time it felt different then all the other times when they’d kissed, more tender and lovingly. That’s why he was confused when Chris broke the kiss after a few seconds.

“I don’t want to hurt you…”, he said as soon as he saw his confused look.

“I’m hurt on my side, not on my lips”, pouting he looked at his friend. He had waited so long for this and now Chris didn’t want to kiss him properly? Weakly he tried to pull him closer. Okay he didn’t have his strength back in his arms, but who cared. He wanted a kiss and he was going to get it.

Chris seemed to have understood that he really wanted that kiss. Smiling he kissed him again, this time more passionately. He swiped his tongue over Toms bottom lip, smiling into the kiss, when the other one responded immediately by opening his mouth. His tongue almost invaded the others mouth, there was no way he could slow down right now. Not when he had everything he wanted. And Tom gladly let him have the control over his mouth. He seemed way too tired to fight back – and he knew very well, that Tom could be as forceful as him if he wanted to. But for now he seemed very content to let Chris tongue swipe over his, nudging it playfully and finding all the sensitive places that made him moan softly into the kiss.

When they finally parted – not without Chris playfully biting his bottom lip – they were both breathless. Tom, even more than Chris, they couldn’t help but smile at each other, enjoying their happiness.

“Do you know when I can go home?”, Tom was the first one to break the silence.

“Doctor said tomorrow if there are no complications, but you’ll still need to rest.”

“Thank God. You have no idea how much I hate hospitals.”

He really did. The beds were uncomfortable and he couldn’t rest properly. He preferred the hotel way over this. There were no people coming inside and disturbing him and he could have his own things around him.

“Move over.”

“What?”

Chris seemed to have noticed his distress at the thought of spending the night here.

“You don’t think I’m going to leave you alone right now?”

He took of his shoes while he turned onto his side and only moments later Chris slid next to him into the small bed. It was a tight fit, but they would manage it. After all he waited so long for Chris to hold him during the night. Chris immediately took him in his arms, careful not to touch his wound but still holding him as close as possible.

“Sleep love… I’m not gonna leave you.”, Chris mumbled and he fell asleep to the soft thumping of Chris’ heart under his ear, the smile on his face showing the true happiness he felt in this moment.

End.


End file.
